The increase and skillful application in the adornment of our parks, gardens, and dwelling-places with beautiful flowers and plants has ever been regarded as one of the most commendable and meritorious marks of persons of taste. To show how true and proper these views are, it would only be necessary to refer to the magnificent timber trees and ornamental shrubs and flowers which enrich and beautify so many of the country residences of persons of wealth in all parts of Great Britain. This is in a large measure both good and profitable; but it is but a section - a part of a great work; and although the effects are felt and enjoyed by every inhabitant of these islands, the actual benefit and ownership is enjoyed by the opulent only. The encourager, cultivator, and patron of hardy fruit-bearing trees, on the contrary, confers a universal benefaction alike on the rich and the poor. Every person who shares at all in the enjoyments of floriculture envies, more or less, the enjoyment and satisfaction of those who originate some garden cross-bred plant possessing qualities which speedily render it an object of popular attraction.

A new Dahlia, a new Fuchsia, a new Pelargonium, or any similar flower when raised by some fortunate amateur, carries with it everywhere the name of the raiser; and this is always deemed a mark of honorable distinction which every real florist is very properly ambitious to obtain. So also is it with other kinds of horticultural productions; and all this is very proper, and we need not say agreeable : and why should a florist be indifferent to the feeling and desire so common in all other classes - that is, to perpetuate his name by associations with some object connected with those pursuits in which he takes especial delight ? We say all this is perfectly right.

If in these fugitive and short-lived objects there be honor and distinction sufficient to stimulate the efforts and zeal of the florist what must be the honor justly felt by the originators of some new kind of hardy fruit - fruit fitted alike for the use of rich and poor - such, for example, as the Keswick Codlin, the Hawthorndean, the Ribston Pippin apples, the Damson and Orleans plums, the Jargonelle pear, and other popular fruits, some one or other of which is certain to be found in every cottager's garden in Great Britain ? It is a singular fact connected with the history of fruit trees, which has been strenuously contended for by some and denied by others, that fruit trees, after a given number of years, deteriorate and become useless. This is asserted to be the case with the Golden Pippin, which, it is affirmed, is not now what it was, in point either of size, flavor, or productiveness, fifty years ago. We are not quite sure that we are prepared to deny this theory, but several other kinds of apples have more recently been introduced, and some of these of high merit; and it is not very impossible that the comparative merits of this variety-have suffered in public estimation from this cause, rather than from any actual deterioration in the quality of the fruit itself, and so also with others similarly regarded.

In the north of England the Ribston Pippin has long been the favorite apple, as the Blenheim Orange has been in the west. It is a little singular that within the last few days the following remarks respecting the original tree of the Blenheim Orange apple have come into our hands:

"The last remnant of the stem of the original tree of the Blenheim Orange which first produced this celebrated apple is no more - the sapless and molding relic itself exists no longer: that which the wood-louse and the worm were gradually consuming, the war of the elements and the hand of man have hastened to a swifter decay. The rains and wind of last autumn leveled the rotten and hollow shell, and the broken fragments have been gathered up and committed to the fire. 'Thrown down and cast into the oven,' this time-honored relic has fulfilled the stern decree of Nature against all vegetable life. The only sound piece of wood remaining was preserved by a horticultural enthusiast to make a snuff box, to serve as a memorial of the past, and to recall visions of him 'who first planted the tree.' In the autumn of 1851 we wrote as follows: 'In a somewhat dilapidated corner of Old "Woodstock stands all that remains of the original stump of the Blenheim Orange; it is entirely dead, and rapidly falling to decay, and time will soon claim the hollow rotten remnant.' We are told how the white-haired gardener, Kempster, first raised from seed this beautiful and justly celebrated apple - that he lived in his little cottage garden, in Old Woodstock, a plain, practical, laboring man.

Kempster is long gathered to his fathers, and the favorite tree to which he gave his name is now no more seen; nothing remains to mark the spot except a young tree immediately derived from the patriarchal trunk itself. Though the parent stem has forever vanished, a numerous and flourishing offspring thrive in the neighboring crofts of Woodstock,-Kidlington, and Bladon, and the hamlets and villages of Oxfordshire; and thence are now generally dispersed throughout the length and breadth of this island, and have reached even to our Australian and American colonies. Some have thought this apple was 'raised'in Blenheim Park by the Duke of Marlborough's gardener; but the towers of Blenheim in this case have no claim to our fruit It was named in honor of one of the Dukes of Marlborough." - Oxford Journal.

We find from other records that this tree was raised, or first brought into notice, in the year 1781. This would seem but a short period for the duration of life of an Apple tree; but it may not be wholly correct; or, if it be correct, the tree may have been exposed to injurious or unfavorable influences, and thereby hastened its decay. Some writers have professed - as Haller has done in Herefordshire - that Apple trees have been ascertained to reach the goodly age of one thousand years; but the late Mr. Knight asserts that the apple in course of years deteriorates, and that its natural age is confined to two hundred years. No kind of fruit can be brought to the same perfection with the same certainty, and with the same small amount of trouble, in this country, as can the apple.

With regard to the introduction of the apple, writers are generally agreed that we are indebted to the efforts of Lord Scudamore, who was English Ambassador at the Court of France, during the reign of Charles I., about the year 1629; and we are informed by Evelyn that about fifty years later, Harris, fruiterer to Henry VIII., first planted Apple trees about the environs of towns and villages in Kent, "to the universal benefit and improvement of the country." At the present moment, no one seems to concern himself about our domestic fruits. The late Mr. Knight has gone, and no one has taken his place. The Horticultural Society cares for none of these things; and at present no one is listened to, who talks of any thing but Orchids and Gilli-flowers. - London Gardener's and Farmers' Journal.